Hiroshige: Near Komakata

(Are you now, my love, near Komakata?                                                         Cry of the cuckoo!  –Takao)

 by Tim Mayo
                                                                                                  

Just like the weather in this print, a constant
yearning clouds the sky saturating the air,

and in a shorthand of symbolism, one migratory
cuckoo hangs here in the sky, beak open to the wind,
its wings oaring its body toward a new home. 

In the distance the sky brightens as if it must be
the future, though this gloom still hovers above city,
river and bird like a secret someone has held over you
  for a thousand years. 

                                    Yes, the spirit migrates,
moves out of desire, to its final nest, but this bird,
wherever it flies, seems to find only this empty air,

the indifferent commerce below rivering home
to a solace of rice and saki, and this one red flag
rising like a skirt in the wind every time you pass.